


All This Worldly Mirth

by TheLibranIniquity



Category: Primeval
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28435350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLibranIniquity/pseuds/TheLibranIniquity
Summary: Jenny has an unexpected encounter on the way home from a party.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 4





	All This Worldly Mirth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Annariel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/gifts).



> Written for in the 2020 Denial Secret Santa, very loosely using the prompt of _A Ceremony Of Carols_. The title comes from the ‘There Is No Rose’ section of the carols. Basically I listened to a recording ([this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-IEuxKCB6o8)) several times and this is what happened.

Jenny ducks out of the side door of the bar, leaving the halogen lights and increasingly tipsy karaoke renditions of ‘Piano Man’ behind her. Cold air hits her in a wave and she wraps her coat tightly around her, double checking she’s heading in the right direction for the tube station home. The local council have got a good array of Christmas lights up this year so her brisk walk is twinklier than usual.

It’s quiet for a week night in early December and it isn’t long before Jenny sees the sign for the station entrance. She waits for the traffic light to change, shuffling a little to stave off the cold. Off to one side on the other side of the road she can see the reflection from a shifting light display. There’s a burst of movement and the sound of something roaring, and Jenny has just enough time to think _oh shit anomaly_ when something launches itself at her head.

Claws dig into her arms and head. Jenny staggers and claws back, but can’t pull the thing off. There is an unmistakable sound of a gunshot. Jenny drops to the ground without thinking and the creature makes a screechy yelping noise. She finally wrenches it away from her head and tosses it aside. It’s small, maybe the size of a large cat, and scaly. Blood spreads out on the pavement.

Jenny tries to catch her breath and looks up. On the other side of the road is a woman holding a gun. Her face is obscured by shadows and a dark hat and Jenny’s own adrenaline, now pumping a mile a minute. Then the woman collapses.

Jenny scrambles to her feet and runs across the road without looking for traffic. The woman’s body is limp, but there is an erratic pulse and copious amounts of blood coming out from... somewhere. She’s wearing black military-looking clothes, ripped in several places but the bulkiness still makes it hard to tell exactly where the blood is coming from. Jenny takes the handgun from the woman’s open hand and disarms it quickly before tucking it into her own jacket. Then she hooks her hands under the woman’s shoulders and tries to turn her over.

“Oh, my god.”

Sarah Page’s face, battered and bruised, stares back up at her. Jenny fights back a sudden wave of nausea and fumbles for her phone. She manages to stay calm long enough to give the ambulance dispatch her location and a rough rundown of Sarah’s condition and tries to remember the operator’s calm promise that _“an ambulance will be with you as soon as possible.”_

Jenny takes Sarah’s hand in hers. There’s something wrong with its shape, like some of the bones are broken. One of the zipped pockets on Sarah’s jacket is angular. It’s only a little awkward for Jenny to open the pocket and pull out what looks like a handheld radio. Half of the device is made of some kind of glass. There’s no ‘on’ switch anywhere, or any controls that Jenny can find and she tucks it into her jacket as well. Sarah doesn’t seem to be carrying any other weapons or communications equipment, and it doesn’t look like anyone else has followed her through the anomaly, human or otherwise. More worryingly, she can’t see any of the other ARC team members anywhere.

Jenny brushes a couple of stray hairs from Sarah’s forehead and spares a glance for the creature, still very much definitely dead back on the other side of the road. She can’t tell from here whether the anomaly is still open or not, and she’s loathe to leave Sarah like this, even for a couple of minutes.

Her hand shakes as she picks up her phone again, this time to call the ARC.

She’s met with a cool digital greeting of: _“The number you have dialled is no longer in service,”_ and double checks her display. The ARC’s main switchboard is still saved in her phone contacts, and she definitely hit the right name on the menu. She does it again, this time paying closer attention to the screen options.

The same voice starts to tell her that: _“The number you have -”_ and she hangs up midway through. She looks back down at Sarah and tries to get her thoughts in order. It’s only been four months, but for some reason the ARC’s changed its phone number. That’s it. It has to be.

Jenny looks down the street again, then back at her phone. She scrolls through her contacts and finds James Lester’s name.

This time the call connects.

o o o o o

Lester finds her at the hospital. Jenny’s taken over a pair of plastic chairs outside the A&E waiting room while a team of medics and surgeons fuss over and prep Sarah for theatre and she moves her coat aside to let him sit down.

“Not quite how I imagined this particular reunion going,” Lester murmurs as he glances up and down the corridor.

Jenny snorts.

“How is she?” Lester asks.

Jenny shakes her head. “They won’t tell me much because I’m not family. She was bleeding a lot when I found her. What the hell was she doing and -”

Lester cuts her off with an apologetic expression, glances around them. There are plenty of staff and civilians moving around but it doesn’t look like anyone’s trying to listen in. “Even if I could tell you, I wouldn’t know what to say.”

Jenny frowns. “What do you mean? Sarah’s supposed to be a researcher. What was she doing in the field with a gun? Alone?”

Lester leans back in his chair, and grimaces when it squeaks under his weight. “I wish I knew. She’s lucky, you know,” he continues before Jenny can think of something appropriately angry to hurl at him in an indoor voice, “that you were where you were.”

Jenny shrugs. “Work Christmas party.” She hasn’t been there nearly long enough to even try negotiating getting out of things like that. The desire to mingle and network and dance around the edges of impropriety lost its appeal a long time ago. Probably around the time she realised she was working with mad scientists and actual time portals and that the world was a lot larger and more dangerous than she could ever have imagined.

A ghost of a smirk flashes across Lester’s face, like he can read her thoughts.

“Stop changing the subject,” Jenny tells him. She reaches into her jacket and takes out Sarah’s gun – which Lester hurriedly conceals inside his own blazer – and the radio thing, which Lester clearly recognises and also quickly hides away.

“If all you’re going to do is deflect,” Jenny continues, “then you might as well leave. I’ll phone you with any updates, since your number’s still the same.”

“My...” Lester frowns.

“I tried calling your office.” Jenny emphasises the last word, mindful of the low buzz of people around them still. “It wouldn’t connect.”

“Ah...” Lester sighs. “We’re... not exactly operating out of those premises any more. Or at all, really.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“We got shut down,” Lester says bluntly. He pulls a slight face and straightens himself back up. “One of several... recent developments since your departure. Not that they have anything to do with that, of course,” he adds quickly when he sees Jenny’s face, “just... that’s the sequence of events.”

It’s another piece of the puzzle but Jenny still doesn’t know what the picture is supposed to be. She’d nearly forgotten how much she dislikes that feeling.

“Excuse me,” a nurse says, approaching them, “are you Jennifer Lewis?”

Jenny stands up. “I am.”

“My name’s Tessa,” the nurse tells her, “I’ve been working on your friend – Sarah?”

“Sarah.” Jenny nods. In her peripheral vision Lester stands as well.

Tessa nods. “She was pretty badly cut up, but we’ve got her stable and she’s being taken down to theatre. You should probably go home; if everything goes well it will be several hours before she’s out. If you leave your contact details with the registrar someone will let you know when she’s ready for visitors.”

Relief washes over Jenny like a tidal wave. “Thank you.”

“Your friend’s in good hands.” Tessa smiles, then nods at both of them and leaves.

Jenny lets out a long breath. An idea occurs to her. “James.”

Lester blinks a couple of times. “Jennifer.”

“Seeing as the... project is no longer active,” Jenny says slowly, working it out as she goes, “then there’s no harm in telling me just what the hell’s been going on. Right?”

Lester sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “As you’ve no doubt already gathered, that’s what I’ve been trying to avoid going into detail about. Come with me.”

He waits for Jenny to give her contact details to the nurse at reception, then leads her out into the car park. It’s windy now, and a light rain makes the cold even more obvious. Jenny rewraps her coat around her and follows Lester to the far end of the car park and a surprisingly innocuous Volvo that’s clearly seen better days.

“Don’t ask,” Lester mutters. He taps on the passenger window, and Jenny realises with a start that someone is already in the car. The door opens and Sarah Page gets out.

“What the fuck,” Jenny blurts out before she can stop herself.

This Sarah is wearing a green winter coat and a white hat and doesn’t look the least bit injured. She gives Jenny a quick up and down, then grins lopsidedly. “Hello to you, too.”

Jenny stares at her. “You – she...” She points vaguely back at the hospital. “You’re in there. That...” 

“She’s pretty real, I think,” Sarah says quietly. “I am too. Come here.”

She wraps Jenny in a tight hug before finally letting go. “Missed you.”

“Me too,” Jenny says quietly. It’s not that she meant to completely cut off everyone from the ARC since quitting, she just needed some time and space, no pun intended. There might have been a half-formed idea to get hold of Sarah or Abby or both over Christmas for a carefully scripted catch-up, but she had tried not to dwell long enough to let her emotions get the better of her.

Now standing next to the driver’s door, Lester clears his throat and glances at Jenny. “We should take this somewhere else. Do you need to get back to your car?”

Jenny shakes her head. 

“Hop in, then,” he says wryly.

The back seat of the Volvo is cramped and oddly smelly. Jenny shuffles a couple of metal briefcases into the footwell beside her. They’re fairly heavy duty kit, obviously anomaly equipment. There’s a growing list of questions that Jenny wants to ask, but she’s already pretty sure she can correctly answer most of them.

She tries to concentrate on her breathing. The adrenaline rush from the creature attack and finding Sarah – the other Sarah – is mostly gone now, but she’s still trembling, still on high alert for the next curve ball.

At an automated set of traffic lights, Lester makes eye contact with Jenny over his shoulder. Before he can say anything something makes a loud beeping noises. Jenny jumps in the back seat and takes another long breath.

“That was Becker,” Sarah announces. “He managed to round up a couple of his old team. The creature’s been disposed of and the anomaly’s secure. He’s going to stay put until it closes; no sign of any other breaches.”

“Small mercies,” Lester murmurs. He turns into a residential street and pulls the car up outside a large block of flats. “You two head upstairs, I’ll go and park.”

On the pavement Jenny waits for Sarah to dig out a key. “I’m guessing you haven’t moved in the last few months,” she says idly. They’re several miles from the studio block Jenny had been to a couple of times.

Sarah shakes her head and leads Jenny into a foyer and an empty lift. “Nah, more hassle than its worth.”

This has to be Lester’s flat they’re going up to then.

“How bad was it?” Sarah asks quietly as the lift quietly slides upwards.

It doesn’t take a genius to work out what she’s referring to. “Bad. I – she looked like you.”

“I think she was me,” Sarah says with deliberate lightness, looking at the floor display above the doors.

Jenny stares at her. “You know what’s happening?”

“I’ve got a theory.” The lift doors open onto a corridor. At the far end is a door that Sarah opens, then leads Jenny inside.

Lester’s flat is spacious, minimalist and tasteful; pretty much everything she’d expect from the man. Sarah takes Jenny’s coat and hangs it on a rack along with her own, then heads down the hallway into the kitchen. She’s obviously been here before.

“Tea?” Sarah calls back. “Coffee?”

“Vodka,” Jenny says automatically.

Sarah laughs. “Tea,” she decides. While the kettle heats up, Jenny has a look around the living room. Taking up one side of the long room is a collection of whiteboards. Jenny thinks she recognises some of Cutter’s equations from the anomaly prediction model, but everything is in Sarah’s handwriting. On a small console table in the far corner is Connor’s anomaly detection device, if said device had been destroyed by vandals and reconstructed by cavemen. It’s at least a quarter of the size of the one Jenny remembers, never mind the differences she can’t identify.

She feels rather than sees Sarah step up beside her. “Welcome to the Anomaly Research Centre,” she says.

“It’s not much, but we make it work,” Lester says dryly behind them. 

Jenny jumps again. She hadn’t even heard the door open. “What the hell happened?”

Lester and Sarah have a brief unspoken conversation before Sarah nods. She returns to the kitchen and comes back with three steaming mugs. Jenny takes hers gratefully, then raises her eyebrows.

“Settle in,” Sarah tells her. “This one’s a doozy.”

She fills Jenny in what had happened in the four months since she’d quit the ARC, from Helen’s continuing descent into madness to Danny, Abby and Connor not returning from their last mission.

“That was six weeks ago,” Sarah finishes. “The Minister shut us down not long after that. Blah blah, mounting death toll, blah blah unjustifiable money pit.” 

The last three words are the bitterest Jenny’s ever heard her sound. No prizes for guessing where the government’s priorities currently lay.

“You said you had a theory,” Jenny prompts her.

Sarah nods. “We’ve been working on a plan to retrace Danny, Abby and Connor’s route through the anomalies.”

Jenny thinks she’s following this alright so far. “From the racetrack... to the ARC in the future?”

“Exactly. It’s not always a straight line from ‘A’ to ‘B’ – see Cutter’s fault line theories – so throw in a few complications for time travel -” Sarah waggles her fingers around for emphasis, “-and I think the other Sarah – the other me – is a me from the near future.”

That makes an awful lot of sense. And an awful kind of sense. Jenny frowns. “So that would mean whatever happened to her...”

“Is going to happen to me,” Sarah finishes. “At some point in the not so distant future.”

“Sarah.” Jenny tries to keep her voice even, but it’s not easy. “There are no guarantees the other you is going to survive the night. There was a _lot_ of blood.”

“You are making rather a lot of assumptions here, Doctor Page,” Lester points out softly. 

Sarah looks determined now. “What about Captain Ryan? He was part of a paradox loop thingy, and he made it out.”

“Captain Ryan is still undergoing extensive physical rehabilitation,” Lester points out. “He’ll probably never see any kind of active duty again.”

“But -”

“He’s right,” Jenny interrupts. She can’t get the image of Sarah’s unconscious, bloody form out of her mind. “This could all be down to any number of things. The other you might even be an impostor – you just told me about Helen’s face changing trick. Who knows what else is possible? And what if some things can’t be changed?”

Sarah radiates disappointment. “Jenny.”

“I’m sorry.” Jenny sets her untouched tea down on a nearby side table. “I don’t think I can be a part of this. I’m sorry about Abby and Connor and Danny, of course I am, but – I quit for a reason. This is too much.”

She leaves before either of them can say anything.

o o o o o

Jenny gives up on sleep around four am. She takes a blanket through to the living room, wraps herself up in it on the sofa and stares blankly at the wall until her mobile phone ringtone jerks her out of a light doze. She answers it without looking for the caller ID.

“Yes?”

_“Jennifer Lewis?”_

“Speaking.”

 _“I hope you’re not too hungover after last night.”_ The voice sounds amused now. _“You’re supposed to be meeting a new client in half an hour.”_

Oh. Oh, no. Jenny sits upright and looks around for the nearest clock face. “Can you put them back by half an hour? I’ll be there as soon as.”

 _“I’ll try and charm them for you,”_ her colleague – Vince, his name is Vince, she tells herself firmly – replies, but he still sounds amused so maybe Jenny will still have a job by lunchtime.

“Thanks.” Jenny hangs up and swears for thirty seconds straight. Then she unburies herself from the blanket and goes looking for clean clothes.

She gets to the office just ten minutes after her meeting was supposed to begin. She feels – and probably looks – like she’s been dragged through a few miles of hedgerow but sweet, sweet adrenaline is coursing through her system again so fas far as she’s concerned that’s half the battle won.

The new client is Michael, a freelance musician trying to boost his online presence. He’s also a terrible, albeit charming, flirt. Jenny smiles her way through proceedings but holds back from anything more than superficial responses. He has a firm handshake when it comes to the end of the meeting, which would normally be a few extra points in his favour, and although he doesn’t offer Jenny his number or ask for hers it’s pretty obvious that he wants to. On any other day Jenny might just be in the mood for that kind of normal game, but not today.

She takes full advantage of her lunch break to to order industrial amounts of coffee and sugary food from a nearby cafe. While she’s waiting for the barista to work their magic, her phone buzzes with another incoming call.

This time it’s the hospital registrar. Sarah Page is out of surgery and still in critical condition, but Jenny is welcome to come and visit her during visitor hours.

Her hand is shaking when the call ends. The barista calls her order, and Jenny wonders how quickly she’ll be able to duck out of work later. She still feels a little justified in her decision to walk away from Sarah and Lester (and the missing Abby, Connor and Danny) last night but this Sarah – whoever or whatever she is – this Sarah’s all alone in the world right now. And she did save Jenny from a face hugging monster.

She downs her first espresso on the way back to the office. Sarah as in Sarah-and-Lester hasn’t tried to call her since last night. Neither of them have.

Jenny hopes Sarah’s okay.

o o o o o

A little after six, an orderly at the hospital gives Jenny directions to Sarah’s room in the intensive care unit. Some of the rooms and communal areas have fairy lights and foil decorations up and Jenny can’t tell if they’re comforting or creepy.

Sarah’s been given the end room on the unit, and Jenny makes sure the station nurse knows why she’s there before slipping inside. There is an unholy number of machines and tubes attached to Sarah, and the lone string of multi-coloured fairy lights across the window frame casts an eerie shadow over the bed.

Definitely creepy.

Jenny pulls up a chair and sits down gingerly. Now that she’s here, she has no idea what she’s supposed to say or do. She settles for gently stroking a bare part of Sarah’s forehead and trying not to cry.

“Just because I died doesn’t mean you have to try and one up me, you know,” she whispers, then giggles at the absurdity of it all. It’s a hollow sound and she sobers up quickly.

“There’s another you out there,” she continues, still mindful of being overheard. “Though I suppose you knew that already if your theory was right. Is right. Will be. Whatever. I just wish I knew what I’m supposed to do.”

Sarah doesn’t say anything. One of the machines is breathing for her, and another is giving her a steady supply of fluids.

Jenny takes her phone out of her pocket and turns it over in her hand a few times. One of Sarah’s machines lets out a series of low pitched beeps and Jenny realises her decision has already been made.

“My turn to save you, I hope,” she tells Sarah. She pockets her phone and walks out of the room and out of the hospital before she can change her mind.

o o o o o

“Are you out of your mind?” Lester demands.

Normally he’d be halfway intimidating with that look on his face and his hands on his hips but with his tie off, top two buttons undone and wearing a ‘Chef Dad!’ apron, the effect is somewhat diminished.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Jenny retorts. She positions herself between Lester and the remnants of the anomaly project in his living room and stares him down.

“Of course you don’t,” Lester tells her, “because for all you’ve managed to escape this surreal arena, here you are, coming right back into the fray.”

“Says the man running an off the books anomaly project out of his city pied-a-terre.”

“That’s different and you know it.” Lester jabs a wooden cooking spoon dangerously close to Jenny’s personal space. “Just because the ARC is no longer sanctioned doesn’t mean that the anomaly problem has magically gone away on its own. As I attempt to point out to the relevant authorities every day and twice on Sundays – and as you yourself discovered last night! One of these days something far worse than a leaping lizard and a duplicate of my Egyptologist is going to come through an anomaly and it will do a hell of a lot more damage.”

“I know, James,” Jenny says softly. “I think that’s why I’m here.”

“To sign up for a suicide mission.”

“That didn’t stop you entertaining Sarah’s theories before.”

Lester deflates. “We were attempting to construct as airtight a mission as possible. Given that everything about everything that we’re doing now is unsanctioned, anything less than perfect success will mean someone dies. Or worse.”

“Worse than death?”

Lester’s expression darkens. “A select committee inquiry.”

Jenny wants to laugh. She hopes she’s expressing sympathy instead. Whatever it is, it seems to work. Lester goes back to his cooking but motions for Jenny to join him. She does but maintains a safe distance, mindful of the spoon’s range.

“There are a great many machinations going on right now,” Lester says softly, concentrating on stirring the contents of a large pan, “that Doctor Page and Captain Becker are hopefully unaware of. Officially, the ARC has been decommissioned and we are all scattered to the wind but I’m privy to a handful of rumours suggesting that the project could be revived in some capacity, but with private backing and no involvement by anyone with actual experience of the anomalies. No amount of appropriate hell raising seems to have made a difference. I’ve been reassigned to Work and Pensions in an advisory capacity for an indefinite period.”

Jenny winces in sympathy. 

“Doctor Page has managed to beg her old job back at the British Museum,” Lester continues, “while Captain Becker will in due course receive orders to join an ongoing military operation overseas. With Messrs Quinn and Temple and Miss Maitland widely considered killed in... unfortunate circumstances, what’s left of the band is being well and truly broken up. Meanwhile the anomalies are an ongoing and ever-present threat, and no amount of cheek turning or head burying by the Minister or any of his pedantic little cohorts is going to change that.”

He puts a lid on his pot and turns to face Jenny. “I’ve welcomed Doctor Page’s ideas up to this point because I thought there was a chance of at least getting some of the answers we’ve been sorely lacking. But as you seem to have worked out last night, the chances of anything like that happening have significantly plummeted. So. What’s changed?”

“I went to go and see Sarah earlier – in the hospital,” Jenny clarifies. “I’m not an expert, but I don’t think she’s going to get better.”

Lester closes his eyes.

“So if we can stop that from happening, in the course of trying to get some intelligence and-or answers, why not try?”

The look on Lester’s face is withering. “Did you not hear a single word that I just said?”

“Yes, I did,” Jenny tells him. “I heard all of them. Particularly the ones that spelled out that there are only three of you left.”

“Now four?” Lester cocks his head slightly.

Jenny smiles thinly. “Now four.”

“Well then.” Lester wipes his hands with a tea towel. “Give the other Musketeers a call and see if they want to come over for dinner and to finalise a plan.”

Jenny grins and makes the first call.

The plan is simple, and largely unchanged from when Sarah had first proposed it to Becker at the racetrack anomaly site the day they’d separated from Abby, Connor and Danny.

“Go through the anomaly, retrace the route to the future ARC, find some technology capable of plotting a route through the wider anomaly network,” Sarah explains over bowls of Lester’s home-made beef stew. “Also find evidence, if any exists, of what happened to our teammates as well as Helen Cutter. Better yet, we find Danny, Abby and Connor.”

Jenny passes Becker the bowl of baguette slices when he nudges her elbow. “Who may or may not be at the future ARC, in whatever time period they were spat out into... assuming the anomalies are non-linear?”

“Exactly.” Sarah licks her spoon then points at Becker with it. “And if we get there before they do...”

“We leave some kind of beacon that they can identify, to let them know the metaphorical lights are on at home,” Becker continues. “I’ve got three NCOs left within call-out range, all with jury-rigged anomaly detection and locking devices. As long as one goes off within range, they’ll get to it.”

“And the anomaly remote,” Jenny says carefully, “the one that the other Sarah had on her, will it work?”

Sarah shakes her head. “Won’t know until we get to the racetrack. Best to try and not use it before then, I think.”

That makes sense. “We should go this weekend,” Jenny says. She gets three quizzical looks in response and explains: “I’m the new girl at work, I can’t just take off with no notice and for the moment at least I don’t work weekends.”

“Nice,” Sarah murmurs with a smirk. “This weekend works for me. Gentlemen?”

Becker nods. “If I’ve got any plans, nobody’s informed me.”

“Likewise,” Lester says. “Given that we’re now a woman up, I’ll stay at the racetrack and run any interference. Better than getting one of your NCOs in any farther than they need to be, Becker.”

Becker nods again. “Makes the most sense.”

“What about weapons?” Jenny asks.

“I’ve got two handguns and my Mossberg,” Becker replies. “Plenty of ammunition, and a few knives as well. It’s not much but we won’t get very far without being quiet anyway.”

Jenny represses a shudder. The tidbits about the future ARC seem to get worse with each mention.

“Saturday morning, then.” Lester collects everyone’s bowls and takes them into the kitchen. 

“Evening,” Becker says. “The racetrack’s a known direct link to the future, there’s bound to be some kind of surveillance. We want to operate as little in daylight on this side as possible.”

Lester acquiesces with a nod. “Evening, then. Come here – anytime after four, just in case I need to pick anything up on the day.”

“Thanks for dinner,” Jenny tells him. The reality of what she’s just agreed to – what they’ve all agreed to – is starting to sink in. She hasn’t even seen a gun since quitting the ARC, let alone used one. And whether it’s by luck or wilful ignorance she hadn’t encountered anything remotely resembling an anomaly incident until yesterday.

And now look at her.

Sarah touches her arm as they put their coats on in the foyer. “Want a lift home?”

“Please,” Jenny nods. She wouldn’t mind the walk to the station, but it had been bitingly cold even when she’d left work, never mind getting from the hospital to Lester’s flat.

In the car outside Jenny’s flat, Sarah looks over at her. “Was it nice, being normal?” she asks, just enough levity in her voice to be almost convincing.

Jenny can’t quite bring herself to laugh, but she manages a genuine smile. “It was,” she admits, “but it was also... I don’t know. The world hasn’t really changed, but I have. I know more now.”

Sarah nods in understanding. “A mind once expanded can never go back to its old way of thinking,” she quotes. “I start back at the BM next week. I’m sort of looking forward to it because, you know, normal. But on the other hand...”

The silence is potent. On the other hand, there are unpredictable time portals that if left unchecked could spell disaster on a horrific scale. On the other hand there’s a duplicate of Sarah Page on life support, who might never wake up. On the other hand, Jenny’s in a position to at least try and effect change on one of those things.

“I’d say things have a way of working themselves out,” Jenny says quietly, “but I had trouble believing in things like that even before I saw my first dinosaur.”

Sarah lets out a loud snort. “Same, same. See you on Saturday.”

“See you on Saturday,” Jenny echoes. She gets out of the car and doesn’t look back until she hears Sarah drive away.

o o o o o

The next couple of days pass in a quiet haze. Jenny puts together a portfolio of ideas for Michael the musician ahead of another meeting scheduled for next week. She’s pretty confident he’ll be on board for most of them. There doesn’t seem to have been any blowback for her late and dishevelled start and from what Vince tells her after a team meeting that Jenny only half paid attention during, there were more than a few genuinely hungover people in the office the morning after the party, so at least she didn’t particularly stand out.

She doesn’t hear from Sarah, Lester or Becker – no news being good news and all that – and on Friday evening, after waving off someone’s half-hearted invitation to go straight from the office to the pub for some drinks, Jenny goes to pay Sarah-at-the-hospital another visit.

She doesn’t look any different under all the machines, and the duty nurse looks sympathetic when Jenny tries to fish for information about Sarah’s prognosis. “It’s too early to tell anything,” is the best he can come up with and Jenny thanks him anyway before leaving.

It’s another long, sleepless night, and to his credit Lester only looks mildly annoyed when Jenny buzzes his flat a little after six on Saturday morning.

“You look terrible,” is his opening gambit. “Guest room is the second door down. Do us all a favour and try and get some sleep, would you?”

“No promises,” Jenny mutters, but she goes and duly lies down. If she does sleep it’s only briefly. 

A few hours later Sarah shows up, and joins Jenny on top of the queen sized bed. With faint morning light coming in through the blinds, Jenny’s not entirely sure if she’s dreaming or not.

“I’m scared,” Sarah says quietly, after a while.

Jenny takes her hand. It’s warm and whole, completely different to the last time she’d held it. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sarah snorts. “You can’t promise that.”

“Watch me,” Jenny yawns. As if demanding Sarah sit this out is even remotely an option.

Lester leaves them alone for most of the day, except to remind them around noon that there is lasagna in the fridge that needs to be eaten.

Becker shows up at four on the dot, with two duffel bags full of weapons and combat gear that his NCOs had donated to the cause.

“I’ve already eaten,” he says when Jenny offers him some of the leftover lasagna.

“Suck up,” Sarah tells him, but there’s no bite to it.

Becker doesn’t dispute the accusation, but he does look amused. He starts portioning out clothes from the kit duffel and hands Jenny and Sarah each a handgun and holster. Lester returns just as it’s starting to get properly dark outside, and changes into his own take on military surplus; dark, practical clothing and some sturdy boots.

Becker packs the handheld anomaly equipment and his disassembled Mossberg and some other bits and pieces into a small knapsack. “Everyone ready to go?” he asks.

Jenny, Sarah and Lester all nod.

Once more unto the breach.

o o o o o

In the rapidly fading daylight, the racetrack looks heavy and ominous. There’s no visible security presence that Jenny can see anywhere, except for the heavy-duty padlock on the warehouse where the anomaly is supposed to be located. She can’t help but snort as Becker digs bolt cutters out of his knapsack. She can’t imagine any world where something as simple as chain links can contain a future predator in search of prey.

The warehouse itself is empty. No anomaly. Not a surprise; someone’s equipment would have pinged long before this point if the anomaly had been active. Lester takes two metal briefcases into a small office area and unpacks a locking device. He starts to assemble it, checking a page of handwritten notes as he goes. When all the parts are in place he moves the case out into the main section of the warehouse.

Sarah takes out the remote from a zipped pocket on her jacket and jabs the glass display. It makes a slight whining noise and Jenny stares in fascination as a display appears on the glass.

“Soon to be standard ARC issue everywhere,” Sarah smirks. She moves to the centre of the warehouse and holds the remote up in front of her.

Becker secures the knapsack to his back and readies the Mossberg, which he’d assembled while Jenny wasn’t looking. “Get ready to move,” he tells her quietly.

Jenny nods and drops her hand to the top of her gun. It’s a reassuringly solid presence.

“Ready?” Sarah asks.

“Do it,” Becker tells her. 

“Good luck,” Lester says quietly. They all look back and nod at him.

Becker and Jenny step up to just behind Sarah, who glances back at them before pressing a button on the remote.

A few metres in front of them a large anomaly bursts into life. Jenny has just enough time to admire the fractals and acknowledge the encroaching sense of dread in her gut before Sarah goes first and steps through the anomaly. Jenny and Becker follow quickly behind.

The other side of the anomaly is every bit as bleak and intimidating as Sarah had made it sound. Jenny can see flashes of movement in the ruined buildings and abandoned cars and there’s a loud rumble in the distance that she hopes is thunder. Behind them the anomaly pulses. Sarah points the remote at it and closes it down again. If it reopens before they get back Lester will be ready to lock it, but this way they keep the keys to the door.

Becker signals with one hand to go forward, and Jenny and Sarah follow him through undergrowth. It’s slower going than the more open roadway, but it feels a lot safer. Jenny feels something press against her leg and kicks away a giant slug. Thankfully it doesn’t make a noise as it hits the ground. Jenny represses a shudder and quickly catches up with Becker and Sarah.

Becker points his gun both ways at a junction. He jerks his head left and continues to lead the way. At the end of a row of ruined buildings is one in even worse condition. It looks like it used to be a lot taller than the one and a half stories still standing and around the crumbling walls on the first floor Jenny gets her first glimpse of future predators in what might as well be their native habitat. One by one another set of claws appears over the top edges, followed by sightless eyes and horrifically sensitive ears.

Jenny has a sudden sinking feeling that she knows which building used to be the ARC.

She’s proven right almost immediately. Becker glances up at the predators and drops his pace to a ginger crawl. When it’s her turn to cross the road, Jenny holds her breath and doesn’t look up. It’s much darker inside the building than she was expecting and it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust.

Becker pulls Jenny and Sarah into a close huddle. “I don’t know where we’re going from here,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to risk using lights yet. We’ll go slowly. Keep your eyes peeled.”

They both nod at him. Jenny checks again that her gun is still safely strapped to her thigh. She thinks beside her Sarah is doing the same. The ground floor of the building is dark and dusty and shadowy – but more importantly it seems uninhabited. At the far end from where they’d come in, Becker nudges open a door that leads to a staircase going down. He glances at the women, then flicks the Mossberg’s searchlight on.

The staircase is long and narrow and Jenny winces every time something creaks. Another door at the bottom of the staircase opens into a larger, much darker space. The air is only a little musty, which suggests some kind of ventilation _and creature access_ a traitorous little part of Jenny’s mind tells her.

She squashes the thought down. Becker flashes the searchlight across the room a couple of times, then audibly sighs. A few seconds later a light appears on his forehead and Jenny realises he’s strapped on a headlamp.

They’re standing at one end of a large, rectangular, windowless room. Most of the space is given over to shelving and storage units, most of them caked in layers of dust and other detritus. In the centre of the room is a large table. The three of them approach it slowly.

It’s not a table, Jenny thinks as they all move to stand around it. It’s some kind of console, with a few panels of obvious controls with the main surface of the ‘table’ being a dormant display. There is a thin but distinct layer of dust and grime coating everything.

Nobody’s been here in a long time. It looks like Sarah had been right about the racetrack anomaly being non-linear – Danny, Abby and Connor haven’t got here yet.

Becker hands Sarah the headlamp to hold up and starts feeling the sides of the console. “Any idea how we get inside it?”

“None whatsoever.” Sarah runs her free hand over the top surface and stops suddenly. “There’s something here.”

Jenny takes the light and angles around a little. Sarah pushes and prods a small indent until something makes a loud hissing noise followed by a beep.

Jenny’s breath catches and there’s a small thump as Becker falls back. “Fuck, warn a man!”

“Sorry,” Sarah says. She helps Becker to his feet and points at the table. “I think this is where the artefact goes.”

“The one Helen took?” Becker sighs. “Of course. There’s got to be something we can use inside this thing, then.”

Sarah shakes her head. “I think we’re ahead of the others. Say we get the hard drive out, where does that leave them? Or Helen?”

“It leaves Helen Cutter well and truly up shit creek, with any fucking luck,” Becker says grimly. “The others can deal with her when they find her. Help me get this thing open.”

Sarah hesitates, then nods. She and Becker get down on their knees and start looking for weaknesses in the console’s structure.

Through the ceiling comes the unmistakable sound of a growl. “Becker...” Jenny murmurs.

He looks up and nods. He unstraps the Mossberg and holds it out to Jenny. “Trade you for the light.”

Jenny hesitates. 

“I can brute force this thing – maybe,” Becker tells her. “And I know you’re good with a gun.”

Jenny nods, hands him the lamp and takes the Mossberg. It’s an unfamiliar weight, larger than anything she’s used before; even her clay pigeon days had been much more about showboating than mastering heavy artillery.

She cocks the gun and aims it at the doorway. The growls are getting louder, and closer. Unless the source of the air draughts is human sized, their only escape route is about to be cut off.

There’s a nudge at her elbow, and Jenny accepts the extra ammunition without looking. Becker’s reputation as the best little boy scout continued to deliver. Jenny focuses on breathing deeply and evenly. Coming down the staircase now is the unmistakable sound of predator clicks.

There’s a loud clanging noise behind her. “Gotcha,” Sarah hisses. The light from Becker’s headlamp disappears, leaving just the small searchlight to illuminate the room.

Ahead of Jenny claws slowly wrap around the door frame. She arms the Mossberg.

Jenny hears rather than sees the others get to their feet and inch closer to her. The predator comes into full view. It steps clear into the room and peers around, head cocked in a terrifying approximation of human behaviour.

Jenny’s breath catches in her throat. The three of them are radiating body heat, but as long as they’re quiet and don’t move they might just stand half a chance here.

The predator makes a few more clicks and steps out of the light’s narrow beam. The three of them listen to the clicks move slowly around the room. Maybe they’re close enough to the console that there’s no difference between them and machinery. More likely their refusal to behave like prey means they’re just not worth the effort of killing.

Eventually the predator completes its circuit of the room and after one last chilling hiss it bounds up the staircase much quicker than it had come down. 

That might have been the longest ten minutes of Jenny’s life.

Someone nudges her shoulder and she nods. She lets Becker take the Mossberg back and lead her and Sarah up the staircase and back to the limited ambient light. Becker flicks the searchlight off even as he sweeps the room. The predator is nowhere to be seen, and there’s no sign of anything else either.

They leave the way they came in. From there it’s easy to retrace their steps to the anomaly site. 

Until all hell breaks loose.

Halfway down the side of the main thoroughfare, Sarah stumbles and clutches at her leg. Jenny reaches out to steady her before she falls.

“Something bit me!” Sarah hisses. Jenny looks around quickly. Something moves quickly across the wall opposite them. Becker fires at it.

Something else launches at Sarah’s head, knocking her to the ground. Jenny scrambles for her gun as Becker moves into cover her.

The creature’s attached itself to Sarah’s head and back. It’s small and scaly, maybe the size of a large cat and -

Jenny’s blood runs cold. She takes aim and fires. The creature makes an unholy screeching noise and relinquishes its grip. Jenny shoots it again and runs over to grab Sarah’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Fucking hurts,” Sarah says through gritted teeth. She presses down on the back of her neck and when she pulls her hand away it’s covered in blood.

“Okay.” Jenny helps her to her feet.

“We need to get moving – now!” Becker aims the Mossberg back the way they had come. “Go ahead, I’ll follow.”

There’s no argument. Jenny and Sarah half-run, half-stumble their way back to the anomaly site. Jenny supports Sarah’s weight as she fumbles for the anomaly remote. It’s quickly smeared with blood but the anomaly opens in front of them.

Becker fires a couple more shots. “Go!”

They go. Jenny trips on the warehouse’s concrete floor and Sarah collapses beside her. Lester’s with them in a flash. Jenny jerks her head towards Sarah and Lester gets the message. He crouches over her, murmuring something Jenny can’t hear.

Jenny gets her breath back and looks around for the locking device. She crawls over to it and hovers her thumb over the ‘on’ switch.

Lester looks over at her. “Where -”

Becker runs backwards through the anomaly. As soon as he’s clear of the field Jenny hits the switch and the anomaly closes in on itself.

Jenny tries to find her words. “Are you -”

Becker shakes his head. “I’m fine. Sarah?”

“I’m okay,” Sarah says shakily. She’s still curled up on the floor.

Lester looks unimpressed. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“Do what you want,” Sarah tells him. “I’m fine.”

Jenny laughs hysterically. Becker whips back around to look at her and despite himself, grins.

They did it. They actually did it.

o o o o o

In deference to their highly illegal little field trip, Lester waits until Becker has driven them to a nearby industrial estate before calling 999. He verbally constructs a story about geocaching and urban exploration while Jenny and Becker hide the weapons and anomaly equipment in the Volvo’s boot – which is just as smelly as the rest of the inside of the car. By the time the ambulance arrives, the four of them are the very model of idiot yuppies with too much time on their hands and not nearly enough common sense.

One of the paramedics gives them directions to the nearest hospital to follow the ambulance to. It’s the same hospital the other Sarah was taken to, and Jenny realises she has no idea how she’s going to spin that one. Judging from the look on Becker’s face he’s thinking the same thing. Jenny shrugs at him and jerks her head in Lester’s direction. Becker smirks in clear agreement.

“Did you leave them a message?” Jenny asks as Lester navigates the late evening traffic.

Becker nods from his cramped spot on the back seat “Bullet from the Mossberg and a portable anomaly detector inside the console. Best we could do on short notice.”

“Good thinking,” Jenny reassures him.

“Sarah got a hard drive out,” Becker continues. “At least, I think that’s what it is.”

“I’m sure we can determine that one way or the other,” Lester comments. He makes sideways eye contact with Jenny. It takes a few seconds to remember his warnings about the future of the anomaly project, and wonders if even the potential of more knowledge counts as the kind of actionable intel that would buy the old ARC team a spot in the new world order.

Whatever that turns out to be like.

At the A&E reception, Jenny and Becker hang back while Lester enquires about Sarah. It’s not long before someone is able to tell them she’s being treated for superficial wounds in a side room, but might just be able to go home tonight.

Jenny sags when she hears that. She leans into Becker and lets him give her a half-hug. There’s a soft look on Lester’s face when he sees them, but thankfully he refrains from passing comment.

After a few seconds Jenny pulls away. “I’ll be right back” she says. “I – I just -”

They both nod and Jenny goes in search of the lifts.

She needs to _know_.

The intensive care unit is quiet at this time of night, and the Christmas decorations are just as creepy as they were before. The door to the room at the end of the corridor is open and Jenny holds her breath as she approaches it.

The bed is empty, the room sterile except for a lone string of multi-coloured fairy lights over the window frame. Jenny lets out a ragged sob, which gets the attention of one of the duty nurses.

“Is everything all right?” she asks. 

Jenny turns around and realises it’s Tessa, the nurse she’d spoken to in A&E when Sarah had first been admitted.

“No, I – yes, I – sorry,” she says. “I – I was told a friend of mine came in here a couple of days ago, but I don’t think that’s right.”

Tessa shakes her head. “We’ve had no new patients at all this week, which is kind of the way we like it.” She steps forward and puts a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “If you give me your friend’s name, I can check where they actually are, if you’d like?”

Jenny shakes her head quickly. “No, no – I don’t want to be a hassle. I’ll get my wires uncrossed, don’t worry.”

Tessa nods. “If you need any help, we’ll do what we can,” she says sincerely. She lets go of Jenny’s arm and walks away.

Jenny puts a hand over her mouth and looks back in the empty hospital room. Then she walks away too, before she gives into all the emotions coursing through her.

She buys three lots of overpriced coffee from a vending machine on the way back down to the A&E. She has the feeling they’ll all be moving onto something stronger once Sarah’s discharged, but for now it will do.

It will more than do.

o o o o o

_One year later_  
A siren blasts through the ARC.

“Anomaly alert!” Jess’ voice booms out over the intercom. “Team One, gear up!”

That’s Jenny. She thrusts the paperwork she’s been carrying at a nearby tech and breaks into a run for the control room. A few seconds after she gets there, Sarah appears, pulling on a jacket.

Jess hands them both black boxes. “Precise co-ordinates incoming but it’s about ten minutes out.”

“Best get moving then,” Sarah grins. Behind them, through the glass walls of his office, Lester makes a shooing motion at them.

Becker meets them halfway to the car park, with a case of EMDs and a team of soldiers in close tow.

“I’ve got the location,” Sarah announces, looking at her pager.

Jenny slides into the driver’s seat. Sarah calls shotgun with another grin and Becker accepts his fate and climbs into the back seat with one of his NCOs. The others pile into a second car and follow Jenny across the city to a car park where an anomaly is sparking brightly next to a ticket machine.

One of the soldiers hands Sarah the locking kit and Jenny one of the EMDs and then joins the others to secure a perimeter.

 _“Let me know if you need an assist from Team Two,”_ Jess tells Jenny over the radio.

She taps her earpiece. “Will do.” Matt Anderson’s the second team leader. He’s a bit quiet for Jenny’s liking but there’s no doubting his capability in the field.

“Ready to lock it,” Sarah announces behind her.

Jenny nods. She and Becker join Sarah and she’s about to give the order when the anomaly pulses. Becker and Jenny immediately raise their EMDs.

Two shadows appear in the anomaly’s centre. Then Abby Maitland and Connor Temple walk through the other side.

Jenny lowers her weapon followed a split second later by Becker. “Over here, guys.”

Abby and Connor whip around. When they see Jenny, Sarah and Becker their jaws drop simultaneously.

Becker is the first to react. “Took your time,” he says thickly.

“Well, yeah,” Connor stutters out He holds up a bullet. “We got your message, but we took the scenic route, didn’t we?” 

He nudges Abby, who looks like she’s crying. Jenny wells up too, and sweeps her into a hug. Connor wraps an arm around them, as does Becker and then Sarah – once she’s locked the anomaly.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” Abby murmurs.

Jenny can only nod. There's just Danny left to find, now.

It looks like the band is finally starting to get back together.


End file.
